


My Black Cat Brings All the Boys to the Yard

by Eyes_of_a_Tragedy, tfw_cas



Series: Destiel Advent Calendar 2019 [13]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benadryl Makes an Appearance, Curses, Cutesy pet names, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Happy Friday 13th, M/M, Movie References, You're Welcome For The Earworm, multiple POVs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-13
Updated: 2019-12-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:48:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21775495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy/pseuds/Eyes_of_a_Tragedy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfw_cas/pseuds/tfw_cas
Summary: When a cute black cat turns up at the bunker, the Winchesters realize it isn't quite as it seems. Also, despite it triggering Dean's allergies, he can't help liking the little furball. It's a shame he can't keep him.**This work was posted solely to Archive of Our Own, and we do not give permission for it to be posted to any other site or on any other third party app without our written consent, and most definitely not for profit. If you read this anywhere that is not ao3, this content was stolen without the authors' consent! Please don't support thieves! Read this on ao3!**
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Series: Destiel Advent Calendar 2019 [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1558915
Comments: 16
Kudos: 106





	My Black Cat Brings All the Boys to the Yard

**Author's Note:**

> Ruk here: This was so much fun to write. I had such a blast with Trex; helping to grow this idea and run with it. Also, I actually thought of a title for once, so… yay!!
> 
> Trex here: Can we all just bask in that brilliance for a moment? … My partner in crime is a genius! 
> 
> Ruk here: Awww, you’re too kind.
> 
> Trex: No, you are! *loves on you* Ahem, anyway! We hope you enjoy this not-so-short fic of ours.
> 
> Ruk: I love you back Trex. Also, it’s a lot longer than I realised.
> 
> Trex: That's what she said!
> 
> Ruk: *snicker* 
> 
> Trex: Without further ado…
> 
> **This work of fiction is subject to copyright, and we do not consent to it being reposted, uploaded to any site other than Ao3, or used for monetary gain without our written consent.**

Dean was walking through the door of the bunker when a dark blur ran in front of him and down the stairs.  _ What the hell? _

  


"Sammy! Something's headed your way!"

  


Sam looked startled as the blur shot towards him, and brushed against his legs. He looked down at it and his features softened. “It’s a cat. What’s it doing in here?”

  


Eyes watering, Dean started heading toward the bathroom. "Hell if I know. Be right back. I'm gonna grab some Benadryl."

  


He rushed down the hall, nose already starting to run. Crap, he needed to nip this in the bud. Rifling through the medicine cabinet in the bathroom, he swallowed two of the little pink pills dry and shoved some tissue up his nose.

  


When he got back to the library, Sam had the furry menace on the table and was lightly petting its head. “Where’d you come from, huh?” he asked curiously.

  


"Dude, don't get attached. You know we can't keep it," Dean mentioned, somewhat regretfully, as he passed through on his way to grab a bottle of water from the kitchen.

  


“Shame,” Sam said sadly. “He’s a friendly little thing. And look at his eyes… they’re blue!”

  


Dean poked his head out the kitchen door. "Blue?"

  


“Yeah, bright blue. I’ve never seen them on a cat before.”

  


Water in hand, Dean stepped into the room, took a swig out of the bottle, and wandered closer. He was about ten feet away from Sam and the cat when he started sneezing, completely dislodging the tissues. "Man, I hope this stuff kicks in quick."

  


“Don’t worry, I’ll put him back outside soon. I just wanna give him some water first. Maybe some bacon.”

  


Dean moved close enough to pass Sam his water bottle. He had to wipe the tears from his eyes to do it, though. "I didn't think cats were supposed to eat bacon. I don't want you to make him sick." He paused, "Wait, how do you know the cat's male?"

  


Sam scrunched up his nose, and thought for a moment. “I… don’t know. I just got this feeling, you know? I could just tell.” He shrugged for emphasis.

  


"You could just tell," Dean repeated with a mocking quirk of his eyebrow. "Okay, Dr. Doolittle. Well, since you're so in tune, why don't you find out if the little guy has a home? I'm sure someone's missing him."

  


Sam rolled his eyes and shot Dean one of his best bitchfaces. “How the hell am I supposed to do that? I don’t have a microchip scanner, and I can’t exactly ask him… her.”

  


The cat hissed, and Dean said, "Uh, think maybe you had it right the first time, Sammy." Whereupon, the cat meowed then plopped his butt down on one of the books on the table. "Huh…"

  


“It’s about curses and how to remove them.” Sam peered closely at the book and some of his hair draped onto the cat. Dean could have sworn that the cat gave a look of distaste before it got up and moved away from the dangling locks.

  


"What if this is like The Colonel?" Dean asked. "I'm not drinking the fur, dude. It's your turn to take one for the team."

  


Sam didn’t look too pleased at that suggestion. “I don’t think anyone will have to drink any potions, Dean. This isn’t Hogwarts. But I do think it’s trying to communicate with us.”

  


Damn, Dean was kinda looking forward to seeing Sam chase bugs. "It'd be easier if you drank the potion, just sayin'."

  


“Not if I don’t have to,” Sam muttered, then spoke directly to the cat. “What are you trying to tell us, little buddy?”

  


"Yeah, little guy, did Timmy fall down the well?" He could swear he saw the cat roll its eyes.

  


“Very funny,” Sam said, and he definitely did roll his eyes. “Can we be serious now, and not piss him off?”

  


Dean looked away from the furball and over to his brother. "What? You're the one who refuses to drink the drink so I don't have to die." And he promptly started sneezing again.

  


Sam sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair. “You sure are set on me drinking that potion, aren’t ya? Let me just try something first, okay?”

  


"Fine, but if it doesn't work, you suck it up and chug, 'k?" He glanced over just in time to see the cat bat the bottle of water off the table.

  


“Sure,” Sam huffed. “Nothing I want more than to talk ‘cat’.”

  


"So, what's your idea?" Dean hollered, grabbing a dish towel from the kitchen to mop up the spilled water.

  


“Observe and report,” Sam replied. “Before one of us goes off half-cocked, let’s see if he can communicate in his own way.”

  


"I don't know about you, but I always go off fully-cocked. You know, they make pills for that now, Sam." Dean draped the towel over the back of a chair and turned to see the cat twirling around Sam's legs. "Sounds like the little guy likes your idea, though."

  


“Your jokes aren’t getting any funnier, Dean,” Sam said, reaching down and scooping up the cat. “What do you think, cat?”

  


The cat purred, then gave Dean a disapproving look - at least that’s what it looked like, anyway.

  


“Let’s give it twenty four hours, and if we can’t figure out what he’s trying to tell us, then I’ll drink the potion. Deal?” Sam added.

  


"Fine. Whatever," Dean muttered. He walked past them, but couldn't resist scratching the cat behind the ears as he passed. His eyes started watering as he left the room.

  


***

  


Later that night, Dean walked into the kitchen to find Sam there with the cat. He was sitting at the table, placing random types of food in front of the feline. Dean watched with fascination as the cat repeatedly turned his nose up at the different options.

  


With a sniffle, Dean turned to the fridge and started pulling out ingredients to make hamburgers. He washed his hands thoroughly before unwrapping the beef and adding some seasonings. He was shaping it into patties when he heard a plaintive yowl at his feet. Looking down, he saw a pair of electric blue eyes staring up at him.

  


"Hey, cat," Dean started, only to be interrupted by the animal leaping onto the counter next to him. "Hey! You can't be up here, fuzzball."

  


The cat did what cats do: ignored him. Instead, it stared intensely at Dean's hands and the raw meat he was working into a thick ball to be squished flat.

  


"Mrow," the cat trilled, head tilting to the side.

  


"Sorry, little guy. No hamburger for you."

  


The cat pawed at the package of sliced cheddar and looked back up at him with wide eyes.

  


"Not gonna work on me, fluffy. I've been on the receiving end of puppy eyes the likes of which you'll never know."

  


With a tail twitch of disgust, Dean watched as the cat hopped back off the counter and moved back to Sam. His brother scooped the cat up in his arms and sat him down in his lap.

  


Dean continued cooking his burgers, listening as Sam had a one-sided conversation with his new friend.

  


“It’s no use looking longingly at Dean’s burgers. I know they look delicious - and they are - but they’re not cat food. You’re supposed to eat fish, or chicken, or… what the hell do cats eat? Not gonna tell me, huh?”

  


Sam sighed, and shook his head. “You must be hungry by now. Just try some of this tuna? Mmmm… tasty,” He said, unconvincingly.

  


Dean put a burger on the table for Sam and said, "Dammit, Sam, don't feed him that. What if he's like one of those gremlin things from the movie and you're not supposed to feed him after midnight?"

  


“This is real life, not a movie.” Sam rolled his eyes (one of these days he was going to get stuck like that), as he picked up the burger and took a bite. He and the cat stared at each other for a moment, and Sam wagged his finger at the feline. “Sorry, dude, this is mine.”

  


The cat hissed and hopped off Sam's lap, trotting over to Dean.

  


"Don't look at me, Gizmo. I'm not the pushover in this household."

  


“Yeah, sure you’re not,” Sam laughed. “A pretty bartender just has to call you handsome, and you’re like putty in her hands.”

  


The cat appeared to be particularly pissed at Sam’s remark; he skulked over to the corner and sat, apparently ignoring them both.

  


"I had an idea. I mean, it seems like he understands us, so what if we try some kind of written communication?" Dean asked, shooting the cat a questioning look.

  


“A pencil and a piece of paper?” Sam asked with a grin. “Yeah, I can make dumb jokes too.”

  


The cat raised its head and looked over at them, but stayed where it was.

  


“Do you mean something like laying letters out and asking him to pick the right ones?” Sam asked.

  


"Sure, like Scrabble tiles, or a ouija board… hell, even just drawing letters on a sheet of paper for him to point at," he shrugged and looked over at the cat. "What do you think, Gizmo?"

  


“That’s actually a pretty good suggestion.” Sam looked impressed. “I don’t think drawing letters on the paper would work though, unless we cut them out. They need to be spaced out so that it’s clear which ones he picks.”

  


"I'm going to go see if I can find the Scrabble game, maybe the ouija board. I'm pretty sure they're in a closet in the hall."

  


“Okay, I’ll take him outside, in case he wants to do his business,” Sam said, picking Gizmo up and carrying him in the direction of the stairs. The cat struggled in his arms, and Dean was pretty sure Sam got a couple of scratches at least, with the way he cursed at the creature.

  


The first closet he tried was full of boxes of Sam's books. Nerd. Digging through the second closet, Dean found the stash of board games, revealing Scrabble and the ouija board. He grabbed them both, just in case, and returned to the war room.

  


Sam was descending the stairs, looking pretty pissed, as Gizmo ran in front of him. “I thought we were friends, but the little fucker sure has some vicious claws. I hope he doesn’t feel the same way about word games.”

  


Dean pulled the ouija board out of its box. "I thought we could try this first, since it has 'yes' and 'no' options. Figured maybe we could try asking some questions first." He looked down at the cat, "How's that sound, fuzzball?"

  


The cat didn’t look too interested either way; for some reason he seemed to be trying to stick his tongue in Dean’s coffee. That was just weird… cats didn’t drink coffee, did they?

  


“What are we gonna ask him?” Sam asked, picking up Dean’s cup and taking it to the sink. “Is there anything you like eating other than burgers?”

  


The cat jumped up on the table and put his paw down on 'yes'. "Huh," Dean pulled his henley up over his nose and called out to Sam, "Looks like it's working!"

  


“Huh,” Sam remarked. “Wish I could work out what it was. Got any other ideas for yes or no questions?”

  


"Uh, hmm…" Dean made some serious eye contact with the cat. Quirking a brow, he continued, "Okay, so is it safe to assume you're cursed?"

  


Without hesitation, the cat placed his paw on ‘yes’ again. 

  


“Good one,” Sam said. “Er… I don’t suppose you know how we can break the curse?”

  


The cat insistently tapped the 'yes' and looked up at them.

  


"Well, okay, then," Dean replied with genuine curiosity. "How complex should these questions get, Sam?"

  


“Hmmm, good question. He seems to understand everything we say, so I think we can go with quite complex. What do you say we try with the Scrabble tiles now, so we don’t have to stick with yes or no?”

  


Dean opened the box and grabbed the purple Crown Royal bag they kept the tiles in. Emptying it onto the table, he started flipping all of them face up. "Let's give it a shot."

  


Sam and Dean spent the next couple of minutes spreading the tiles over the table’s surface, removing the blank ones, as they worked. Dean couldn’t help spelling out a couple of naughty words, but he quickly shuffled the tiles around again, hoping Sam hadn’t noticed. 

  


“Okay, what are we going to ask first?” Sam asked, addressing Dean, before staring inquisitively at the cat.

  


"What's your name?" Dean had jokingly been calling the cat Gizmo, but if he had a real name... 

  


The cat began walking amongst the tiles, obviously looking for a particular letter. He stopped when he found it, and tapped his paw on it as he’d done with the ouija board. 

  


“C,” said Sam, excitedly. 

  


They watched as the cat began searching again, then indicated another letter.

  


"A," Dean added, then looked over. "We know you're a cat, dude. How about we just stick with Gizmo for now." He glanced at Sam and wondered out loud, "I wonder how he got cursed?"

  


The cat pushed an 'I' to the center of the table, then found a 'D'...

  


"Dude, I think he's calling us idiots," Dean scoffed.

  


“No, I’m sure he isn’t doing that. Especially as we’re trying to help him.”

  


The cat carried on, finding an ‘I’, and a ‘T’.

  


“I think you might be right.” Sam frowned down at the cat and its growing collection of letters.

  


Dean sat in one of the chairs, sneezing into his sleeve. "Bobby? Is that you?"

  


The cat meowed and put his paw on his head in what looked like exasperation, then touched an 'M'.

  


“M,” Sam said, peering at it as if he was trying to calculate pi in his head. “Mom? No? Er… my name is…? Are you Crowley and you’re calling us morons?” He turned to Dean and sighed. “This isn’t working out so well, is it? So far we’ve got a C-A-D-I-T, and an M. What the hell is that supposed to spell?”

  


Dean sniffled and said, "Man, I wish Cas was here. He could just interrogate you to get the answers."

  


The cat yowled and walked over to him. "Dude, back off a bit. I'm allergic to you."

  


The cat didn't listen, though, and sat back on his haunches and reached up to tap Dean on the forehead. 

  


“He might understand what we’re saying, but he’s kinda heedless when it comes to personal space, isn’t he?” Sam chuckled. “You’re gonna make Dean sick if you keep getting in his face, buddy.” He leaned over to move the cat away from Dean, and got a scratch on his arm for his troubles.

  


Dean reached out and grabbed the cat, picking him up so they were on eye level. "Hey, you. No hurting Sam. He's trying to help you, you know." 

  


He started coughing and passed the cat off to his brother. "I've gotta get out of here. Sorry. Good luck with this."

  


Dean left the room, trudging to the bathroom to pop some more meds before going to his bedroom to grab a change of clothes. He needed a shower asap.

  


***

  


Sam rested his elbows on the table and huffed in frustration. He felt bad for Dean - his allergies were a real pain - but at the same time, he hadn’t exactly made the situation any better. Despite his protestations that he only went off fully-cocked, his attempt at working out the cat’s message seemed to annoy it more, and now he was left alone to try to decipher what he was trying to tell them.

  


“Hey, cat,” he said in what he hoped was a placating tone of voice. “What did you want to tell us? I promise I won’t interrupt you any further.”

  


The cat paced around amongst the tiles once more, this time finding an ‘S’. It pushed the tile towards the others, then sat itself on the table and looked up at Sam.

  


“C-A-D-I-T-M-S… Nope, that’s not a word. Is it an anagram?” Sam wondered out loud.

  


Sam didn’t think it was possible for the cat to roll its eyes, but somehow it did. 

  


“You’re gonna have to help me out here. I’m not getting it.” Sam gave the cat his best puppy dog eyes, and hoped that would work on the feline.

  


The cat stood up again, and began pushing the tiles around. When it had finished, Sam looked at what it had given him, hoping it was a better clue.

  


“A-C-S. It still didn’t mean anything.

  


_ Wait !  _

  


“C-A-S… are you telling me you’re Cas?” Sam felt like a prize idiot… of course it was Cas. All the pieces of the puzzle suddenly fell into place, and he beamed at his friend before scratching behind his ear.

  


“Dude, I’m so sorry for not realising sooner. No wonder you didn’t want me to take you outside for your business… awkward. But what happened to you? How can we undo the curse?”

  


Sam stopped talking and slapped his own forehead. “I’m gonna go tell Dean right now. He needs to know.”

  


He took off towards the bedrooms, with Cas hot on his heels. However, bursting into Dean’s room with the news, Sam saw that his brother was fast asleep.

  


This could wait until morning, and in the meantime, he and Cas could work on the cure. Maybe he would even be back to himself by then.

  


Unfortunately, Cas’s skills at letting Sam know how to cure him using Scrabble tiles were severely limited. After about an hour of frustrating attempts at trying, Sam felt his energy sapping and he laid his head on the table for a couple of minutes. That was all he needed… just a few minutes... 

  


***

  


Dean woke up from a Benedryl-induced sleep and glanced over at his clock. It read 4:01. There was a warm weight on his chest, and he looked down to see Gizmo curled up on top of him.

  


He carefully reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a couple tissues. Shoving them in his nose, he gave in to temptation and stroked down the cat's back. His fur was so soft, and Dean could feel the rumble of purring with each pass of his hand.

  


"You sure are a cute little guy. I hope Sam had some luck figuring out how to help you."

  


The cat woke up at his voice, and stretched full-body before standing up and leaning over to nuzzle Dean's cheek.

  


Dean gripped him tight as he suddenly sneezed. "Okay, bud, I think it's time for another dose of allergy meds for me. What do you say we go grab some food, too?"

  


The feline headbutted him and licked his cheek. Taking that as an affirmative, Dean got up and carried Gizmo with him into the bathroom. He snagged the meds and continued on toward the kitchen.

  


Due to the watery eyes, he could barely make out Sam passed out at the table, Scrabble pieces scattered around his head.

  


In the kitchen, he set the cat down on the counter and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge. He washed his hands in the sink, then grabbed a loaf of bread and the peanut butter out of the pantry. It was some organic, hippie brand that Sam insisted on buying, and Dean would never admit it to him, but it tasted better than the Peter Pan that had been his preferred choice.

  


He looked in the fridge for the jelly, but looked like they were out. There wasn't any in the pantry either. Dean shrugged and spread peanut butter on both slices of bread.

  


He was going to just slap them together and take his pills, but Gizmo knocked over Cas's bottle of honey. "Guess that could work." After drizzling a little on the slices, he put them together and took a bite. "Mmm, that's pretty tasty," Dean said with a full mouth. "Thanks for the suggestion, buddy."

  


Setting the sandwich down on the counter, Dean uncapped his water and swallowed down two more pills. When he reached for the pb&h, Gizmo swatted at his hand and quickly took a bite.

  


Dean was about to object to the sneak attack on his sandwich, when there was a sudden flash of light which prevented him from seeing anything for a few seconds. When his vision was clear again he could no longer see the cat, but Cas was standing there instead.

  


_ Where did he come from _ ?

  


"Cas?" He looked around, searching for Gizmo. Maybe… "Did you see a black cat?"

  


“Dean, do the letters I-D-I-O-T mean anything to you?” Cas asked. He stared into Dean’s eyes, but didn’t say anything more.

  


"Yeeeaaaaah," Dean drawled, looking at his friend who seemed to be covered in black hairs.

  


“That’s a fancy looking gizmo you’ve got there,” Cas stated drily, pointing at the waffle iron. He really seemed to be speaking in riddles today.

  


Dean was starting to put some pieces together when Sam burst through the door. His hair was a mess, and there was a Scrabble tile stuck to the side of his face. “Cas!! You’re back… how? How did you…?” He pulled Cas into a bro-hug and slapped him on the back.

  


Dean poked Sam in his tile and said, "You knew?"

  


“I worked it out last night,” Sam said, letting go of Cas, and pulling the tile from his face. 

  


Cas coughed and gave him a pointed look.

  


“Oh, er… Cas helped me to understand last night,” Sam corrected himself. “I was gonna tell you, but you were asleep and I didn’t want to disturb you.”

  


"Thanks, I guess," Dean responded, half bitchiness, half honesty. "I still don't understand what broke the curse, though."

  


“I had to eat something after midnight. I understand the irony, as you made me watch Gremlins, and I think the witch that cursed me did too.” Cas gave a little laugh.

  


Dean stared, mouth hanging open. "You mean, this whole time it was a bad movie reference?"

  


“It would seem that way, yes. Some people love movies as much as you do, apparently,” Cas replied. 

  


Sam slapped his hand over his mouth and chuckled. “Dude, that’s a whole new level of nerd.”

  


"Shut up, Sam." Dean shot him his own bitch face, then turned to Cas and sneezed. "You're covered in fur. Unless you want me to look like a walking plague victim, you'll go take a shower."

  


“Yes, that is a disgusting image you’ve painted for me, Dean. I’ll take a shower now.” Cas started towards the door, when Dean suddenly put his hand on his shoulder to stop him.

  


"It's good to have you back, Gizmo," Dean snarked, then pulled Cas into a hug. Whispering in the angel's ear, he asked, "Mind if I join you? Somebody slept on top of me last night and got me dirty."

  


“If you’re really good, I’ll let you tickle my belly,” Cas growled back into Dean’s ear. 

  


“I know what you’re doing, by the way,” Sam complained. “You guys are gross.”

  


Dean looked over at his brother and grinned. "Then this won't come as a shock."

  


He grabbed Cas's ass and stroked a hand up his back. Cas rubbed against his cheek, and Dean couldn't help but dive in for a kiss. It was kinda gross, given his current state of sniffles, but Cas responded with enthusiasm.

  


"C'mon, kitten, it's bath time."

  


“Rawr,” Cas purred.

  


**The End**


End file.
